


Take My Hand You Bloody Idiot

by dothechachaslide



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Everyone Is Gay, Gay, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-13 18:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16023959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dothechachaslide/pseuds/dothechachaslide
Summary: Everything is changing, and yet Harry feels like he's stuck in time. It's only when Hogwarts announces an optional eighth year that he finally knows what he wants.Surprising exactly no one, he and Draco Malfoy strike an uneasy truce now that the war is over. However it's not long before things get a little too complicated.Harry isn't sure who or what to trust and the fact that he's slowly feeling something that's definitely not hate for his "mortal enemy" certainly isn't helping.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry was bored. And not just the usual kind. Ever since he left the Burrow halfway through the summer, he’s been desperately trying to find something to fill his time. He thought that thing would be auror training, but for some reason, he just couldn’t make himself commit to putting his life in danger again for the next forty years. Not just yet. 

Despite him not wanting danger, he didn’t want to just sit around either. And so, when McGonagall announced that those who attended Hogwarts in the seventh year and never got to finish their education could come back, he told Hermione to put his name down right next to her’s and Ron’s. Hogwarts was his home after all. 

The sound of the train whistle swells through the air and he refocuses on the people in front of him. 

“Can you believe we get to go to school for a whole extra year?” 

Ron snorts. “Knowing you, you’re studying for your final exams already.”

“And why wouldn’t I be? This is our final year. I’m taking seven NEWTS to your five. You should be studying too.”

"The eighth year was only added to make up time from the war! It's not a big deal, 'Mione."

They continue bickering. This is why he left the Weasley’s. Despite his fierce love and appreciation of his friends and the fact that they finally got together, Harry couldn't deal with the constant fighting between them.

A gust of wind rustles past his ears. He decides to interrupt them in an effort to get a move on.  
"The train will leave without us if we don't hurry!" 

Hermione nods quickly and drags Ron by the hand onto the train.  
Some things never get old.

Ron and Harry begin heading to the first empty compartment they see but Hermione stops them.

"Just up ahead is the compartment you both sat in before first year started. Should we maybe take a visit, for old times sake?"

Harry and Ron share and grin and lead the way.

Seeing it is like being wrapped in a warm cloak of nostalgia. It makes Harry miss a time when everything about the Wizarding World was fresh and new.  


He lets out a soft sigh just as a knock sounds on the door.

"Luna! Neville!" Hermione exclaims, practically bowling over Ron and blocking the view of the guests as she bombards them with hugs.  
"We didn't think you guys would be back this year!"

"My father is off studying to write a piece on the Blibbering Humdinger." Luna explains proudly. She had planned to start searching for new creatures this year with him, Harry guesses that changed.

"I couldn't think of a single reason not to come," Neville says, "And trust me I’ve tried. But gran begged me to come back and Hogwarts is plenty close to where my parents are."

Ron nods boredly and Hermione continues chatting animatedly with Luna.

It's only a few minutes later when the compartment door flies open, a sound that has them all jumping to their feet, wands in hand, before they collect themselves enough to realise that it's only Malfoy.

Harry's heart beat slows. 

"Potter. Granger, Weasel, Loony, and.. Longbottom. It’s been a while.”  
Harry can hear the sneer in his voice as he closes the door behind him.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry replies while trying to ignore the angry feeling that absorbs him whenever he’s nearby. The last time he saw him was at the trials. He spoke up for him and his mom and Harry knows the only reason he’s back is because it’s a condition of his parole. 

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asks, clearly intending her tone to be venomous.

"The war is over. And you-” he turns to Harry, “saved my life.”

He hates how nonchalant Draco sounds about the whole thing. He hasn’t been able to go near fire for months and he gets to act like he’s completely unaffected? Git.  


Harry needs to focus and stop thinking about him, but that’s hard to do when he’s standing this close and it’s making Harry so angry. 

"So," Ron says, "What's that have to do with anything?" 

Draco turns his signature sneer on him. 

"Well Weasel, It means I owe Potter something. And I don’t like that. It’s tiresome, debts can be oh so tricky, you know?”

He can feel Ron struggling to control his inevitable outburst.

Harry slowly clears his throat hesitantly.  
"What are you proposing?”

"A quiet 8th year. A sort of truce. As long as you don't mess with me, I won't mess with you."

Malfoy stops to take in everyone's facial expressions.  
"Am I wrong to assume we've struck a deal?"

Silence surrounds the group, finally broken by Harry.  
"Deal."

Malfoy nods at the group in the compartment and spins dramatically for effect, a habit he seems to have picked up from his godfather, and leaves with his companions trailing after him. Harry looks at Pansy and Zabini feels his thoughts pulled towards Crabbe. He had tried to kill Hermione, but he was still barely a teenager. Just like them. Harry isn’t sure if he deserved to die. He isn’t sure if that matters. Plenty of people who didn’t deserve it were lost in the war. 

Harry lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in.  
"Do we trust them?" Hermione asks.

"We'd be dumb to so soon.”

"Maybe they actually want some peace, last year was hard on everybody," Neville says.

"You really do think the best of people, don't you mate?" Ron asks, astonished. 

Merlin, this angry feeling just won't go away.


	2. Chapter 2

The train pulls to a stop and Harry leans over to shake Ron awake. He had fallen asleep about halfway through the ride in a pile of chocolate frog wrappers and cards, some containing his face to his delight. Harry thought it was mortifying the first time he saw own face on a card, but he’s used to it by now. 

When they finally manage to lug their trunks off of the Hogwarts Express, Harry is stopped in his tracks by the faces of all the other students. He thinks that it must be the emotions from being back at the location of the final battle, before he sees where they’re looking. They all stand, almost in perfect lines, in front of the Thestrals, only a few of his school-mates seeming unaffected. Harry remembers one of Hermione’s lectures from some time ago, and the scene starts to make a terrible amount of sense. 

Harry feels sick to his stomach.

Hermione pulls him and Ron into a nearby carriage, and before either of them can comprehend it, they're off.

On the ride to the castle, Harry can hear the whispers of the students around him. He can feel the eyes watching him. Every step further throws him into memories of the battle more potent than that from a pensive. 

“Who do you think will teach defense?” a fourth year Ravenclaw whispers to her friend on the bench across from them. 

He, Hermione, and Ron don’t say anything to each other. They can’t. They don’t want to. 

The thought of new teachers, of new everything, makes Harry’s stomach clench. Hermione places a hand on his and he realises that they’d balled into fists. 

The carriages pull up to the castle and they all file out quietly. The whispering had stopped abruptly just past the gate. Harry watches a pile of rubble start arranging itself into a step right in front of him. 

He catches a whiff of treacle tart as they get nearer to the front of the crowd. Draco Malfoy and his friends shove past him to get closer. 

In front of them, Professor McGonagall is standing with a solemn look on her face. 

“Good Evening class of 1999. I am happy to welcome you all back. I know these past years have been extremely difficult for everyone. We strongly feel the loss of each and every person not here with us tonight.”

A second year breaks down crying and a few of their friends gather to shush them. McGonagall takes a few seconds to regain her composure. 

“The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly. Before you all take your seats in the Great Hall, the first years will be sorted into their houses. Remember, despite how some of you may feel, house unity is of the utmost importance. Your house is something like your family at Hogwarts, but never underestimate the importance of friends. Eighth years, you will have classes joined together as your numbers remain small. Your common rooms will stay the same and you will continue to eat with the rest of your house. The sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes. First years after me. Everyone else, you may take your seats.”

With that the doors to the school are opened and students begin to shuffle through. 

Harry and Ron start walking towards the Gryffindor table, Hermione and Ginny trailing behind them. 

He hasn’t spoken to Ginny since he left the burrow. Things had been awkward between them, that’s for sure. He just wasn’t sure how to act around her. She had told him to stop babying her. She was sad that Fred was gone, heartbroken even. The whole family was mourning, but it was not his job to treat her like she was made of glass. He supposed that was better than what he had been doing. He just couldn’t deal with crying girls, and in that respect, Ginny was pretty perfect. 

The first years all draw up to the front of the room and look anxiously at the hat. 

Harry hasn’t attended a sorting ceremony since his fifth year, but he still remembers how nerve-wracking it is to be the one standing up there. 

The room quiets as the sorting hat begins it’s song, looking none the worse for wear after it’s time on fire. 

_There was a time 1000 years ago this is well and true_  
_When four founders, all of great renown, were divided just like you_  
_First was Godric Gryffindor the bravest of the herd, his recklessness and chivalry as true as my every word_  
_Then Rowena Ravenclaw, the brightest of the four_  
_A place of wit and learning not matched in Gryffindor_  
_Next is Helga Hufflepuff who was kind and true_  
_Her acceptance of all is matched by none, pleasant through and through_  
_Finally Salazar Slytherin if you are sly and cunning_  
_Whose contrived view of ancestry left the other founders running_  
_Each have released young people that have accomplished many things_  
_But the houses help to see the qualities every student brings_  
_So sit down and put me on, I’ve far more brains than you_  
_I can tell in what house you belong, firsties that’s your cue_

No one speaks for a few moments. The entire Great Hall remains silent. 

“Alicia Selwyn.” McGonagall calls. 

A nervous looking girl who keeps fidgeting with her hands approaches the hat. She sits down and McGonagall places it on her blonde head. Minutes pass before anyone speaks again. The only sound in the room is the shuffling of feet and the occasional growing of a stomach. 

“SLYTHERIN!”

Harry takes in the look on the girl’s face. She seems devastated. Harry waits for someone to say something. He waits for the girl to take her seat. 

_“We don’t want her kind here!”_ a voice calls. 

Hundreds of heads turn towards the noise. 

_“Yeah! Get her out of here,”_ someone from the Gryffindor table says. 

It’s quiet for a moment more, everyone looking for the people who had spoken out. Then, students around the room begin booing. Harry feels rather than sees Hermione suck in a sharp breath in front of him. 

Ginny looks outraged. The Slytherins in the room all huddle closer together unconsciously. 

Harry chances a look at McGonagall. The fury in her eyes is enough to frighten anyone. The tension in the air is palpable. 

_“Hogwarts Students. _There will be none of that. Do not take these words lightly. You are not to replace one type of discrimination with another. We welcome all wizards with good intentions here. I assure you that no first year, no student of mine, will ever be allowed here without them. Never again. If I hear even a single syllable out of your mouths against the Slytherin House or Purebloods, I will not hesitate to punish you. These changes will be evident in our staff as well.” She gestures to the teacher’s table and Harry notices for the first time the new faces. A new potions master, a new defense teacher, Trelawney back again for divination. He doesn’t have time to notice anything else before McGonagall is speaking again.__

__“I trust I will not have to remind you of the punishments available for students who do not follow these rules. The ceremony may continue. Ms. Bennett, if you would kindly take you seat.”_ _

__The girl scampers all the way to the her table, a few seventh years scooting over to make room._ _

__Only two other students are sorted into Slytherin that night, each one to stony silence._ _

__When the meal ends, Harry, Ron, and Hermione trek quietly up the staircases._ _

__“I can’t believe what they did to that poor girl,” Hermione whispers._ _

__Ron places a comforting hand on her arm._ _

__They reach the portrait without any more words exchanged between the three of them, going in near the very last._ _

__It’s late at night in the almost empty common room before they speak to each other again._ _

__Ginny is curled against his side, her arms around a pillow while he strokes her hair. It’s softer than he remembers, the finest strands slipping from between his fingers to fall over her face._ _

__“Do you think Malfoy really wants a quiet year?” Ron asks._ _

__Hermione looks at him for a moment._ _

__“I don’t know what to think,” she admits. “The war was hard for everyone. The Slytherins.. they have no illusion of being in power. Not anymore. It’s not… unbelievable to think that he wants to be done. I can’t imagine how hard it is, the world looking at them like they’re all monsters. Mini Voldemort’s waiting to happen.”_ _

__The weight of Ginny against his side eases and Harry turns to her._ _

__“You do know what it’s like, Hermione. People looked at muggleborns just the same way. They were disgusted by you. That was what the war was about.”_ _

__The dying embers of the fire crackle. Ron squeezes Hermione’s hand._ _

__“Not really. The war was about power. Voldemort wanted it, we had it. The power to kill as you see fit, the power to make the world full of people only you deemed worthy. Being a muggleborn isn’t the same, Ginny. People were disgusted by me, they thought me improper or they didn’t respect me, but they were never afraid of me. Can you imagine having grown people be afraid of you? When you’re only eleven?”_ _

__“You’re nicer than I’ll ever be,” Ron says. “Probably the most decent person alive. How can you look at them and.. empathise? Pity them?”_ _

__“But you don’t hate them Ronald. Do you?”_ _

__He shakes his head slowly and she pulls him into a hug._ _

__“That’s because you’re a pretty decent person too.”_ _

__He and Ginny share a look. He wonders if it’s true. If somehow not hating someone for something they can’t change makes him decent? If the bare minimum is not hating the the other stuff is only optional._ _

__“I think I’m going to bed,” Ginny whispers._ _

__Hermione nods and she and Ginny both get up. She hugs Ron tightly again before the go up the stairs to the girls dormitory, leaving him and Ron alone. Ron gestures to the stairs and they rise as well._ _

__They walk side by side up the stairs and then dress for bed silently. Just before Ron closes the curtain to his bed he looks at Harry one more time._ _

__“I’m not saying he’s changed, mate. But maybe now that no psychopath is threatening to kill his family, maybe he’s trying.”_ _

__Harry drifts off to sleep with these words fresh on his mind._ _


End file.
